Leo Valdez and The Prophesy of Eight
by ronald hibbard the first
Summary: It all started with an ominous dream. Then Chiron sends three powerful demigods, the Oracle, and myself to some town. Why? Are these things connected, or am I just being paranoid? Ah, such is the life of a demigod. Lucky me.
1. On Setting Out

Chapter 1

On Setting Out

Leonidas Valdez

Black. That was all I could see in front of me. Beginning to panic, I took a step back, only to fall flat on my rear. The blackness ahead of me became ringed in rock, almost as dark as the opening before of me. A very deep rumbling, akin to laughter of the wickedest kind, sprang forth from said opening.

_"__Soon, my child. Soon, you shall be here, and from here we shall watch all that you love burn." _The voice laughed once more, the volume and power shaking the whole of the cavern. I shook as well, though whether because of the monster in the blackness, or out of fear, I knew not.

"Leo!" a voice from nowhere seemed to scream out. "Leo!" it called again, this time very obviously behind me. I turned, trying to see who it was. All I could see was the outline of someone, likely a girl judging by the length of her hair and the sound of her voice. She threw something to me, a hammer of gold and bronze, and I grabbed it. Standing, I slowly turned back to face the darkness, when…

"Leo!"

"Ah!" I shouted, face hitting the rug-covered floor. "What… who… What was that for?" I finally stammered out.

"You've been summoned, you fool. Get dressed. You have a long day ahead of you." With that, a set of clothes were dropped on my head.

"Thanks," I mumbled from where I lay, face in the carpet with a pile of clothes on top of me. "Idiot," I said, even quieter, hoping that she had not heard me. A kick in the side told me otherwise. The fading footsteps told me that the perpetrator, likely my half-sister Nyssa, had left. Groaning, I stood, a sock sticking to my ear.

I dressed quickly, knowing that the lord of our village, Magis, would not like to be kept waiting. I pulled on the shirt, leggings, and socks that had oh-so-ungracefully been dumped on me and made my way out.

"Repair Boy!" someone called, throwing an arm around my shoulders as we walked. It was Pollux, the town inn-keeper, who also owned the local bar. "'ow's me favorite son o' Hef'tus doin' teday?" he said in his barely-understandable northern accent.

"Fine, fine. And it's Hephaestus, not Hef'tus." Pollux, one of only a few sons of Dionysus, shrugged, not caring. I managed to shake Pollux off, loosing him on the unsuspecting group of demigods before us. See, that's what makes us different from the other nearby towns. Nearly everyone here is a son or daughter of an Olympian God or Goddess. While other people hunted us down, or, in a few rare cases, worshiped us, here we were all treated as equals. Our leader, Chiron, had decided that someone needed to gather all these swordsmen and bowmen and put us somewhere safe, where we could train, building our powers and learning to use them well.

Several calls of "Hey Leo" in various forms and statements made for a rather longer walk than normal. See, I am a strange case. While many of my fellow demigods have useful skills like healing, sword fighting, or shooting, I have, well, nothing. At least, nothing useful. Unless you want to burn a city to the ground, that is. I'm what's often called a "duel accursed one", as I am both a son of a god, believed to be a bad thing when among mortals, and also cursed to have fire powers. Perseus says otherwise, that they're just as useful as his own hydrokinesis, or controlling water with his mind, but I think otherwise. Speaking of the son of Poseidon…

"Leonidas! Didst Chiron call thou, as well, my good friend?" I nodded as the blond fell into step beside me. I guess I did have one advantage over everyone else here: I have no trouble what-so-ever understanding nearly any accent, with Pollux's being among the only ones.

"Any clue as to why he called?" I asked, switching into Ancient Greek, one of the only ways to readily communicate with anyone else.

"No; I had been hoping you knew. I asked Annabeth, but she wouldn't answer." Annabeth was the oldest daughter of Athena, and Perseus' beloved. When I first saw her, I initially mistook her for a daughter of Aphrodite. Perseus had quickly corrected that, then proceeded to beat my stomach with his fists. It took three, nay, four people to remove the violent demigod from me. Since then, he and I had gotten along rather well, all things considered.

Soon, the two of us were joined by Piper, an actual daughter of Aphrodite, who was also my greatest of friends, and Annabeth, who quickly attached herself to Perseus. Piper seemed torn between giggling at the "cuteness of it all", as Drew, her buffoon of a half-sister, called it, and rolling her eyes at the embarrassment from the same. Together, we walked up to the Grand Keep, where lord Chiron lived, along with a few others.

Reaching the open doors, we walked up a set of stairs, a red carpet running down the centre of the hall, with rare stained glass windows depicting some of the Heroes of Olde: Jason, the leader of the Argonauts; Theseus, slayer of the Minotaur; Ajax, Achilles, and Odysseus, heroes of Troy; and more besides: Heracles, Perseus the first, Janiya, Lee, Grant, Perseus, Annabeth, Clarisse, myself; Chiron truly loved us as though we were his own.

We entered a large room, the Court of Olympus, it was called. It was an apt name, as the ceiling of the room held a statue of each Olympian seated upon their respective throne, arrayed in the same fashion as that of Olympus its self. I smiled and nodded towards the depiction of Hephaestus. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw each of my friends do the same toward their parent.

At the far end of the Court, Chiron stood, facing away from us, his black tail swishing slightly. His armor, which he wore only because anything else would look strange or out of place, what with the white horse that took up the lower half of his body. He seemed to be talking with someone, so the four of us held back a tad while we awaited our instructions. Not more than a moment later, Chiron stopped talking, and turned his head to see us.

"Excellent. Come here, my friends. There is someone you must needs meet," he told us in Greek. We walked up, Piper at my side, Annabeth at Perseus', and saw a red haired girl, not more than six-and-ten summers old, like Piper and myself, making her a year younger than that of our companions. "Everyone, this is Rachelle. Rachelle, these are Perseus, Annabeth, Leo, and Piper." We nodded as Chiron introduced us. "You five are to travel south-east, to the city of Nova Roma, and its out-lying estate, Jovis."

"I don't recognize those names; where are they?" Annabeth asked.

"And why are we leaving?" Piper inquired further. Chiron held up his hands.

"Peace. All shall be explained. First, Rachelle is our Oracle, meaning she is blessed with bouts of Prophesy, though oft it is unable to be understood upon being spoken. Second, I wish for you to take this missive," he handed Perseus a scroll, "to the protector of Jovis, Lupa. She will understand, and make arrangements for you five. All of you are to stay there for three cycles of the moon. Once this has been done, you may choose to either return here, or stay as you so desire. Questions are now to be accepted." We glanced at each other, waiting for some else to speak up first. When no one was forthcoming, Chiron dismissed the five of us, saying that we would be leaving the following morning, and as the trip would be at least a fortnight long, we had best ready ourselves.

Perhaps I should explain: we live in the middle of nowhere, far from the prying eyes of the mortals, but at the same time, far from the nearest town, meaning oft we need to make a camp. Furthermore, as demigods, we frequently attract attention, usually in the form of monsters like Dracnae, or Cyclopes. This means that we are always readying to fight. In truth, the life of a demigod rarely exceeds eight-and-ten years. The oldest in our feodom, is a mere one-and-twenty winters old. The only reason he lived this long is because he was wounded too badly to continue fighting, so now he resides within the Keep, along with Chiron.

"Shall we, as the long-aged saying goes, divide and conquer?" Perseus asked. Piper looked at me wondering what he had said.

"He asked if we should split up," I clarified.

"Oh… What do we need? And where are we going?"

"Hm… he never did answer that, did he?" Annabeth said, more to herself than anyone else. At this point, Rachelle decided to speak up.

"I have this here map, if anyone cares," she said, shaking a scroll and gaining all of our attention. We gathered around a nearby table as Rachelle unrolled it, revealing its contents to us.

A simple map, it was not much more than a handful of landmarks and a few estates. Thick, heavy lines depicted the edges of feodoms, while lighter, thinner lines showed roads connecting estates and cities that lay within. It was easy to find ετεροθαλής συγγενής, as it was circled in red, as was Nova Roma.

"Aliquam Tiberim? What does that mean?" I asked, pointing at a strange moat-like object encircling Nova Roma. Annabeth stood up, hand to her temple, as though deep in thought.

"It seems familiar… Where though… Gah!" she cried in frustration, throwing her hands into the air. "It seems so close! As though I should know!"

"Is it another language?" I asked, curious. Why, exactly, escaped even me. All I was, and still am, was a simple metal worker; even the children of Morpheus, the god of slumber and dreams, knew this. Granted, I am better than many… ah, well.

"Ahem," a person sounded, clearing her throat. We looked up at Piper. "Well, are we going to pack, or just rough it? While that might sound fun to you lot, that sounds much less so to me." With that, she spun around on her heel, and she walked, confidence pouring out of her, back to her, and her siblings', dwelling.

"She's right." Annabeth immediately went into action, telling each of us what to bring and what to leave behind. When she had finished her tirade, Piper was walking back to us, dress replaced by a form-fitting shirt with low V in the neck, vest, and leggings, with hiking boots having taken the place of her sandals. Her long blond hair was no longer simply hanging loose, but was now in a single braid reaching about half way down her back. A pair of gold earrings, able to become a shield and breastplate, hung from her ears. Completing the look was the saw-toothed double-edged sword, taken from a son of Boreas, Zethes, which hung loosely from her hip, while her dagger, Katoptris, was in its sheathe on her right boot.

"I'm ready when e'er you are," she said, smirking at us. I quickly shut my mouth, though how it opened without me noticing was unknown, shook my head and walked back to my dwelling that I shared with my own half-siblings. Walking in, I made sure to avoid stepping in any of the plethora of traps, scrap metal, or random weapons, some completed, others not. Being the dwelling councilor, I made sure that all of my brethren were awake, or well on their way, before packing. I grabbed an empty booklet, a rarity outside of Dwelling Nine or Six, which belonged to the children of Athena, like Annabeth or her brother, Jake. I also made sure to buckle on my magical belt, which had no limits as to what it could produce as long as they could readily be found within a forge, some clothes, and my only weapon, a modified hammer I had named Mart, short for martillo, Spanish for hammer. So, maybe not the most creative name, but it works.

As I held it, preparing to leave, I thought back to my dream from last night. In all of the excitement from earlier, I had all but forgotten about it. Holding Mart, I was certain that the hammer in my hands was the same, or at least very similar to the one from my dream. This, of course, made me wonder at who could have thrown it. Never had I let anyone touch this weapon, as while forging it, I somehow had imbued it with my fire powers, making it highly volatile. It was, much like myself, prone to randomly igniting for no apparent reason. For this reason, I, as the only demigod immune to heat and fire, allowed no one save myself to wield it.

I shivered as I thought of the Blackness that had talked to me. Maybe I should tell the others, especially seeing as how Perseus and Annabeth often spoke of having dreams like these. As a demigod, we rarely had dreams that were merely that. They were more often found to be premonitions of the future, or of current happenings. Based on the context, I would venture to guess that it was one of the future.

Shrugging my shoulders, I walked to the granary and collected a few spices and herbs, knowing that we would be more than able to find plenty of game to hunt or fish. A few fruits and vegetables later, and more than a few golden drachmas later, and I returned to the table where we had met. In spite of the fact that I thought that I had moved quickly, I noticed that I was the last to arrive, save only Annabeth.

"She's bartering with Katie," Piper replied when I asked where the Athenian was. She moved a piece on a checkered board, taking one of Perseus' own. Rachelle was watching with only mild interest. Katie was the councilor of the children of Demeter, Goddess of farming, bartering, and fairness.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Annabeth called out to us running towards us with a grin on her face. She was dressed much like Piper: shirt, though less form-fitting, vest, leggings, boots, dagger, and hair all the same. She had no sword to use, however. Across her neck, almost hidden, was a necklace which could allow the wearer to turn invisible at will. At her side was a satchel, stuffed with… something. Each of us had one, but Annabeth was the only wearing hers. "I was able to get these." She reached into said satchel and withdrew a canteen with a gold-tinted, but otherwise clear, liquid, and a pouch of mutlicoloured flakes.

"Nectar and ambrosia?" Piper asked. Annabeth nodded, confirming what we all knew. The two items were worth more than nearly anything else in the town, as they were the food and drink of the gods themselves. Few people outside of Apollo or Demeter kids had the healing items, as they were medics and creators of the stuff, respectively. To mortals, these were instant death, and it would be to a demigod that ate or drank too much, but in small, rationed amounts, these two items could heal nearly any wound, as long as it was not life-threatening.

"Well, then, why wait until tomorrow?" Rachelle asked. We looked at her, then around at each other. Shrugging, we agreed. All of us standing, I got my first good look at this so-called Oracle.

Rachelle was dressed in a free-flowing dress that reached her ankles. She wore well-built sandals, not terribly different to the ones that the Olympians were thought to wear. She had a quiver on her back with an unstrung yew bow, a very light, but strong bow, and a purple sleeveless shirt, revealing muscled arms, much to my surprise. A satchel sat at her waist, just like the rest of us.

Perseus was decked similar to me. Simple shirt, vest, and leggings, but also with a sword sheathe on his left hip, bearing no weapon. His belt was not even as close to awesome as mine, merely allowing him to have stronger skin, thus deflecting weaker blows with ease. He walked, as always, with a duality: a great sense of purpose, but also as though the weight of the world were across his back.

And no wonder, really. In a foul ploy for power, Atlas had managed to kidnap Annabeth and make her bear the weight of the Sky, and Perseus, upon seeing her doing this, took the weight from her. While Atlas now remained trapped once more, both demigods now had a permanent stripe of grey hair in the front of their heads, a bitter reminder of what they had done.

Calls of "Be careful," "Have fun!", "Good luck!" and the like were sent from everyone we passed. Outside of our feodom, we would be in constant danger, and thus our lives would truly be a fight for survival. Knowing this, Perseus led our group out.

On the way to one of the only paths in or out, we passed fields of all sorts of crops, mainly strawberries and grain, which we sold to nearby towns and villages. Passing these, we began walking through the Forest. Why it had no real name, I know not. If it did, it would most likely be Nymph Forest, as more than half of the trees were also nymphs, and the lake, deep in the Forest, was home to many nymphs as well. According to rumor, Perseus and his half-brother, Tyson, had built a dwelling for themselves underwater, but neither ever confirmed this. Annabeth insisted that it existed, but in truth, it matters not. No one save a child of Poseidon could reach anything that lay beneath the surface.

"Perce!" someone bleated out, having at us. It was Grover, a satyr, who was easily Perseus' best of friends. With odd, goat-like legs, he often had a hard time hiding among the mortals, but unlike the rest of us, he would not attract any monsters, so he had that going for him. At his side stood a nymph, named Juniper, who wore a simple green and brown dress, matching her tree perfectly. We made our way over, knowing Perseus would "have" to speak to his old friend.

"Where be ye traversing off to?" he asked, a strange combination of Perseus' accent, and his own, natural one.

"A town a fortnight from here, named Diovis. We are to meet a woman there, Lupa, and deliver unto her a missive from lord Chiron." Piper looked at me, questioning once more. I shook my head, silently trying to say that I would tell her later. Really, after living with people like Perseus and Grover, as well as Lacy and Travers, she ought to know and understand their accent. But, alas, such was not the case. I tuned back into the conversation, only to hear that it was concluding.

"I doth wish thou all a safe and valuable journey." He and Perseus clasped each other's right arm and embraced. Perseus did the same to Juniper, much to Annabeth's mostly concealed dismay. With that, she roughly grabbed Perseus' arm and dragged him down the path, forcing the three of us to run to catch up. Behind us, we heard Grover and Juniper laughing, deep in hysterics. And thus we left Magis.

**Author's Note: Most of the characters will have their full names spoken, since they are in Medieval Europe. Also, the demigods come from all around the continent, so they will all have at least somewhat different accents. Finally, the foreign languages that narrator understands will have their translations at the very end. Like this:  
ετεροθαλής συγγενής- Greek for half-blood**

**Review! ~Ron, the son of Poseidon**


	2. On Onions and Dreams

Chapter 2

On Onions and Dreams

Leonidas Valdez

"I'm bored."

"Shut up, Piper!"

"But I'm bored too!" I groaned in exhaustion. Internally, I laughed.

"I… don't… care!" Annabeth said slowly. We could almost hear her teeth grinding against each other. Behind us, Rachelle was quietly laughing, keeping pace with us, but only just. Piper and I bumped fists, something we had done as mortals in a country called France, and it somehow had survived to this day, two full years later. Perseus was twitching, obviously torn between laughing at his beloved, and at rebuking Piper and myself.

"Can we stop? Please?" Piper whined, earning an audible chuckle from our Oracle.

"Yeah, I'm hungry," I implored the Athenian. That seemed to push her over the edge. She released Perseus' hand, drawing her dagger, and whirling around. In a matter of moments, she somehow had managed to press her dagger against my throat and had stolen Katoptris from Piper's boot, pressing said blade against her throat. Piper's flicked to meet mine, and we gulped, the sharp edges of the daggers pressing into our flesh.

"Say you're tired, or bored, or hungry again. I dare you," she hissed, voice dripping in vocal venom.

"Calm down, Annabeth," Piper said soothingly, obviously trying to use charmspeak to ease the tension, both metaphorical and physical. It managed to calm me somewhat, though something told me it had not worked on the Athenian. Annabeth turned, facing the daughter of beauty.

"That won't work on me, since you seem to have forgotten," she said, confirming my suspicions, albeit that some of the wrath seemed to have been taken away. We all stood stock still, no one daring to breathe, lest we awaken the wrath further. "That's what I thought," she said, turning back and forth from me to Piper. She removed the blades from our throats, flipping Katoptris around. Handing the weapon, hilt first to Piper, she sheathed her own dagger, and resumed walking down the road. Once the young woman had traveled a short ways down the road from us, Rachelle spoke up.

"Well now, let me see. Piper, you owe me three drachma for her reaction being spot on to my prediction, and you owe Leo eight drachma for his prediction of stealing your dagger. Pay up," she concluded, both of us smiling while Piper doled out the money, grumbling all the while.

"I hate you both; I just want you two to know that," she said, the clink of coins hitting each other echoing in the quiet of the forest.

We had been walking all day, and the sun was beginning to set. Knowing our daylight hours would be few and short, Perseus suggested we stop for the night. The rest of us readily agreed, much to Annabeth's vocal displeasure. I say vocal, for she was of Athena, and asking to rest would seem a sign of weakness, thus making her appear weak. We all knew each other rather well, save only Rachelle, so Piper, Perseus, and I knew she was likely as tired and ready for sleep as the rest of us. Due to a rather pathetic oversight on our part, we forgot to bring horses with us. How we managed that… it could very well never be known.

Regardless, Rachelle and Perseus left to catch something for us to eat, while the rest of us made camp. Thankfully, we had thought ahead enough to pack blankets and a few pans. After I had made a small ring of stones, I closed my eyes, concentrating on the small and ever-present, but very real, pressure in the back of my mind that threatened to break at any time. Straining to be very careful, I focused on that pressure, brought it to the forefront of my mind and tried my best to keep it contained. I envisioned what I wanted that pressure to take the shape of, and when I opened my eyes, a warm and pleasant fire sprang into being.

"Nice!" Piper exclaimed, bumping my fist again. "I guess you're starting to get the hang of it, eh?" I nodded, worn out and tired. It was true: the first time I tried using my pyrotechnics, I had accidently killed my mother, a woman who loved forges, in spite of the dangers. After that, everywhere I went, I seemed to burn something, anything, down until I had met Piper by chance two years ago. My powers seemed to vanish whenever she was around. It helped, and soon I had a bit more control, though not much. A few months later, we were found by Perseus and Annabeth, who had arrived in town to rest on their way home from some quest. Something about a fleece of gold or some such. Regardless of what it was, the pair had recognized us for what we were and had taken us to Half Blood Hill. Since then, we had been on one or two quests, nothing special, and were always together.

Drew, one of Piper's half-sisters, always pestered me to ask her to dine with me, but I valued our friendship too much to do such a thing. Besides, after all this time, I had gotten to see Piper less as a potential wife, and more as sister. Beyond that, her mother and my father were married, though, in truth, this did not matter to anyone.

Perseus had taken it upon himself to instruct me in ways of how to use my powers for whatever I needed. He insisted that I could gain enough control, with practice and concentration, to make fire solid enough to walk on. Of course, Perseus had spent the last five years perfecting his hydrokinesis. I, on the other hand, only had begun actively seeking out a teacher in the last year.

"Hey, fire guy," Piper said, snapping her fingers in front of my face. I jolted out of my trance and walk down memory lane.

"Huh? What? Sorry…" Annabeth laughed, then went back to stitching a hole in her sock. Piper just shook her head, smiling. She, of all people, knew me better than most. She knew that keeping me focused on anything outside of a forge was next to impossible. It could be done, but only with great difficulty.

"I asked, how difficult was it this time?" she said, smiling. I shrugged.

"Not very, though it would be nice if I could use it…" I fumbled about, searching for the right word. Finding it, I continued: "…faster. It takes far too long in my opinion." Piper just smiled, shaking her head.

"If you say so, Repair Boy." She turned back to the pot that was soon to go over the fire. In went several spices I would probably never be able to name, as well as a few I could, and two chopped up carrots. "Here, Leo. Dice these for me, will you?" She passed me a handful of potatoes and a knife. She then took a knife to an onion, much to my, and Annabeth's, disappointment. It seemed that neither of us liked the foul bulbs. Oh, well, I thought to myself, looking back at the potatoes. In short time, all of them had been diced and placed in the pot, along with two onions.

"Piper, why do you do that?" Annabeth asked, as the girl in question started chopping yet another onion.

"What?" she replied, not looking up.

"That, the onions. You know we don't like them," she said, gesturing with her needle and thread, pulling her sock in the process. Piper just smiled, though in the dancing firelight, it turned her face quite frightening and wicked looking.

"They're good for you; you know that," she replied, scooping the bits of nastiness into the pot, which was by now almost half full. Piper stood, rinsing her hands in a bucket of water. She laughed when she the pouting faces of Annabeth and myself. "You two are so immature."

"Who is?" Perseus asked, walking into the firelight with two rabbits in his hand, long since dead. Rachelle was just behind him, smiling broadly.

"We are," I answered, gesturing at Annabeth and myself. Rachelle and Perseus laughed with Piper, drawing angry glares from each of us.

"Onions within thine stew?" Perseus asked Piper in-between breaths. Piper, unable to stop at all, simply nodded. Annabeth, now thoroughly humiliated, grabbed a rabbit from Perseus, and quickly proceeded to skin it. I followed her example, taking the other for myself. I quickly removed the brown-furred skin, trying not to think of what exactly I was doing. This never had been my favorite thing to do.

Of course, in this day and age, it was our only option. In a choice between killing and eating the rabbits, who, as the say accurately goes, breed like rabbits, or us dying of starvation, we will win and the rabbits die, every time, hands down. Annabeth and I quite quickly and skillfully gutted and cleaned the carcasses, she doing so better, and tossed them into the pot. She then took the pelts and hung them not too far from the fire, knowing that we could either use them, or sell them in nearby town. The organs that could be used were cleaned, then into the pot they went. The rest were tossed away into the woods for some other animal to eat. Being fireproof, I placed the surprisingly heavy pot on a few stakes that I had built just for this purpose.

By now, the other three's laughing had abated enough that we could ask why Rachelle had been smiling as much as she had.

"Well, we weren't having much luck."

"It seems to me, my friends, that I be not the hunter once thought I was," Perseus said, face turning downcast for a moment.

"Bah! Give it time, Perce. You'll remember soon enough," Annabeth said, simultaneously reinforcing her beloved's ego and silently telling him she forgave him. I noticed the subtlety, though it very well could have been lost on Perseus: he is not the most observant of men.

"Anyhow…" Rachelle said, drawing the attention back to her. "Perseus had just scared away yet another couple of rabbits, and I was growing frustrated. Not at you, Perce," she said, backpedaling quickly. "I meant, at the lack of food. So, I told him we would search for a den, rather than rabbits themselves."

"And find one we did. A small one, yes, but great enough in size that we may eat well tonight. Calling forth the water that lay beneath the surface, I did force it to rise. And rise it did. The mammals were cast thence from their abode, and Rachelle did shoot them therein."

"What? What the Hades did he say?" Piper said, looking at me.

"He flooded out a rabbit's den, and Rachelle shot them on their way out of the hole in the ground."

"Oh. Why didn't yeh just say that in the first place?" she asked, directing the question at Perseus. He cocked an eyebrow at me, smirking slightly. I shook my head, grinning profusely. The smell of rabbit and potato quickly drew us back to the simmering meal. Handing a bowl to everyone, Piper began dishing it out while Rachelle removed her quiver and sat on a log beside me.

I noticed Annabeth wince slightly after taking a bite. I silently laughed, knowing I would do the same once I found one with an onion or two. As the Fates would have it, that very thing happened. I noticed Annabeth and Piper struggling to hold back their laughter, and failing rather badly. Most of the rest of the meal passed in silence, broken only by the chirp of the last insects, or the pop of the fire. There was the occasional clunk of the ladle on the pot, but, again, most was silent. I decided that this would be a good time to share my dream.

"So," said I, putting my bowl, empty for the third time this night, "I had a dream last night." This gained me all of their attentions, even Perseus and Annabeth's, in spite of their kissing.

"Oh?" Rachelle asked. The flickering firelight made her blonde hair turn as red as blood, not even the least bit foreboding, eh?

"Y… yeah," I stammered out. I was silent.

"So… you planning on telling us, or do we have to guess?" Piper pressed, the fire making her appearance no better. I swallowed, nervous.

"Get on with it!" Annabeth snapped. Perseus, always the hero, soothed her, calming her back down quickly.

"Right." I mentally braced myself. "I was happily minding my own business in a dream, when suddenly, everything vanished. There was nothing anywhere. Then this voice started laughing at me, from right in front of me, but everywhere all at once." I shivered at the thought, as well as at the descending temperature. "This… form appeared, but didn't at the same time." At their confused faces, I hastily explained: "Like a tiny speck of light somewhere just behind me. Like, I could see just the faintest outline of the form, but he himself was hidden." They nodded, understanding. "I backed away, and the blackness resolved into a tunnel of rock. Granted, a very wide tunnel, but one none the less. He told me that I would meet him there soon, and together I would watch everything that I loved burn to the ground.

"A voice called my name, a girl's voice more exactly. She threw a hammer to me, made of gold and bronze, and I stood up, ready to fight, when I was awoken by Nyssa." The four were silent for a time, too long in my opinion. Of course, I wanted them to reassure me, tell me that it was all a dream, no need to worry, etcetera. That would never happen, of course, but still, 'twas a nice thought.

"Methinks…" Perseus started, slowly, "that this might serve some purpose on this quest in which we partake." I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, oh son of the sea, believe it or not, I had surmised that all by myself."

"But it's not a quest, is it?" Piper said, unsure. We looked at Rachelle, who was trying to get some dirt out from under her nails. Honestly, trying to make her focus on the task at hand was… hard, to say the least.

"Hm?" she asked, looking up. "Oh, right… the Quest." She sighed. "Oh, very well. Methinks ye ought to know anyways…" The wind picked up, only slightly, while her hair whipped about as though in a hurricane. Green mist appeared around her, seeming to come from her eyes and mouth.

_"__Two sons of the sea,_

_one lost, the other soon to be. _

_Two of fire, two of war._

_One of skies, one of a star. _

_The king shall fall before them all, _

_lest into the darkness all befall."_

The mist vanished, and the wind died down. Rachelle swooned, and I caught her before she fell. "Thanks," she mumbled. We were totally quiet. Not a sound was to be heard; not even the fire seemed to want to shatter the silence. A cricket chirped, and all five of us jumped. I started laughing, quietly, but slowly building up strength.

"At what in Hades art thou laughing, Leonidas?" Perseus said, glaring at me slightly.

"I don't know, maybe the ridiculousness of it all," I eventually responded. At their angry glares, I hastily explained: "Think about it: how many children of the sea are there? Only one: Perseus. How many children of Death are there? None. And what about the stars? What could that possibly mean?"

"Leo, Prophesies rarely make sense until they are fulfilled. Don't make light of the situation," Annabeth chastised.

"Look, regardless, le… let's just try and get some sleep, alright?" Piper stuttered. Nervous glances came from each of them.

"You alright, Pipes?" She shrugged half-heartedly. "Right… Off to sleep, I guess…" Calls of goodnight and sleep well came from each of us as we spread out our blankets. Of course, the Fates seemed to have other ideas. A strong wind returned, coming from the North, bringing with it the cold of the North Sea. Rarely did we travel there, for fear of angering certain gods, mainly Kione. We all shivered, pulling our blankets a tad closer and sliding a bit closer to the fire. With that, I closed my eyes and knew no more.

**Author's Note: A prophesy! The plot thickens... The bit regarding onions is a dig at myself and my mum. We often bickered about putting onions in anything. Personally, I think they never should have been dug up and eaten, but for some reason, a great deal of people seem to disagree.**


	3. On Frustrations

On Frustrations

Reyna

It was dark. Black, really.

_No, _I thought, _this is Nothing, a total absence of light. _I looked around. It was truly Nothing. Not a single thing in any direction. I took a step forward. I yelled as my foot struck a weapon. I bent down to examine it. In spite of the lack of any source of light, it was plainly visible. A wooden handle, likely made of oak or maple, stuck out of the bottom, with an inch or so just visible through the top. The head of the hammer seemed to be a strange combination of gold and another metal, though I, being not a child of Vulcan, could not tell what. Regardless, I looked about me once more.

I saw a figure, now, standing in the mouth of a Great tunnel. The cave was huge, easily stretching dozens of feet in every direction from the figure. It backed up, only to fall. My eyebrows came together, and I reached for the weapon at my feet. As I picked it up, I heard a loud Voice call to me, saying _"Soon, my child. Soon, you shall be here, and from here we shall watch all that you love burn." _The second figure, faint though he was, seemed to laugh. I grew fearful, and I somehow knew this first figure would be the only way to defeat the Dark One. I called out a name, the first one that popped into my head: Leo. With a great heave, I threw him the hammer, which was far harder than I thought. He caught it expertly, and turned away, ready to strike the foe.

"Ugh," I groaned as Aurum licked my face. "Shoo," said I, pushing him away. He sat, tail thumping loudly against my bedpost. His brother, Argentum, was still sleeping. The two dogs had been a gift from my sister, Hylla, after I had been promoted. According to her, the pair of border collies were able to sense lies. Taking a quick glance at the window, and expecting to see darkness, I was relieved to see that the first light of Apollos' Chariot was beginning its daily trek across the sky. The Chariot its self could not be seen from my second story window, but the light was such that it would technically be called day. Groaning, I pushed myself off the ground and absently scratched Aurum's head as I searched for a decent shirt and leggings.

As is my wont, I changed quickly and leashed Aurum. Together, the two of us ran from one barracks to another, up and down the main principia, and up to New Rome. When we returned back to my Praetor's villa, the sun had just broken free of the Earth's grasp, claiming its place in the sky, and forcing Venusius, the Morning Star, from the same. After a brief visit to the bathhouse and letting Aurum run amuck in the fenced in backyard, I walked, authority and strength coming off me in waves, to the dinning pavilion.

"Good morning, Praetor!" several people called out as I walked passed. I nodded, the expression on my face never wavering for more than a moment. Someone joined me as I walked passed: Hazel Levesque, the only daughter of Pluto.

"Good morning, Hazel," I said, as we walked.

"Thank ye, and to thou as well. How be thee?" she asked, grabbing a glass of water from a passing ari.

"Well enough." I chose not to divulge information about my dream. However, "Do you know anyone named Leo?" Hazel stopped, water beginning to drip down her chin. "I take that as a yes?" She lowered the glass and wiped her mouth.

"Ask me later; for the present, I know not anyone named thus." With that, she walked off to her Cohort, the Fifth, and sat beside fellow member Frank Zhang. Confused, I shook my head and made my way over to the Praetors' table, wherein took my seat beside fellow Praetor, Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, who was flirting with a daughter of Bacchus. I sighed, both disappointed and more jealous than I would ever admit, either to myself or anyone else. When the girl flicked him in the forehead and left, he turned his attention to me.

"So, Reyna, how'd you sleep?" I cringed inwardly; of all of the questions, this is the one I had hoped he would not ask.

"Ask me later." He gave me a strange look.

"Right…" he said, drawing the word out. Standing, he called out, "Quiet!" The hall fell silent in moments. Switching into Latin, he continued, saying "On the agenda for today, the Second, Fourth, and Fifth Cohorts are defending the Keep on the Field of Mars, while the First and Third are attacking." Everyone groaned. The First and Third Cohorts were known for their rather ruthless attacks, and with both Cohorts on the offensive, there was likely to be a great deal more casualties on the side of the defenders, regardless of the fact that there were only two Cohorts, verses three. I knew the children of Vulcan would not be pleased that the Keep, which they graciously rebuild time and times again, would be all but flattened.

"Enough," I said, hands raised. I stood up, reinforcing my position as Praetor. I only had been in this position for a few months, whereas Jason had nearly a year under his belt, and so, whether I needed to or not, I felt that I had to defend my position more than he. "What we say is final. There will be no changes to the teams, and you all have until this evening to come up with an attack or defense plan. However," I said, turning to Jason, "they are correct. They are… aggressive in their attacks. Perhaps it would be wise to remove all afternoon classes so as to allow them to train and plan." Jason pondered this, his hand under his chin.

"What say you?" he said, speaking to the Legion. A great chorus of agreement rang forth from the assembly. "Then let it be written. There is much to do until such time as the fight."

"As always," I continued, "the children of Vulcan are dismissed from their duties to build the Keep and upgrade as they see fit. Do not hinder them in any fashion. Now, Senatus Populusque Romanus!" I raised my glass, as did Jason, and soon the rest of the Legion had as well. Jason drank deeply first, then I, and finally the rest of the Legion did as well. With that, they were dismissed, and filed out according to Cohort and age.

"I'll see you later, yeah?" Jason said absently. I nodded, knowing he was likely off to flirt with the next girl to strike his fancy. Once he walked out, I made my over to the Praetor's Office, where I began a mountain of paperwork. I picked up a quill and was about to start signing, when a strange shimmering appeared in front of me. I looked around, trying to confirm that it was no trick by a child of Bacchus or Hecate.

"Ah, miss… Reyna, is it?" a voice said to me from the mist. It cleared after this, revealing the visage of a centaur, wearing leather and with brown hair on the top of his head and on the side and bottom of his face. I started, as many of his kind were loud and irritating. I glanced around again, checking once more.

"Yes…" I said, drawing out the word so as to think of my next statement. "Who are you?"

"I am known as Chiron." I was skeptical; Chiron would be very, very old at this point. He should be dead. As if reading my thoughts, he said "Should be dead, possibly. Can't be dead; now that is a different matter. As long as there is someone to teach, I live." The ancient centaur waved his hand. "On to other matters. Is there one named Lupa around?"

"The Mother of Rome?" He nodded. "No, I'm sorry. We haven't seen her around these parts in ages. I would take a message for her, though I make no guarantees that she would receive it."

"I see," Chiron said, stroking his beard. He seemed to come to a decision. "I will not be speaking to you, nor to the other Praetor, Jason, unless I am mistaken. No? Good. This is an urgent, but very important message. I shall be sending to you a group of emissaries. Please do refrain from killing them like last time." I raised my hands in defense.

"Hey now, that wasn't me, and it happened nigh on nine summers past." He chuckled, his beard twitching slightly.

"'t was a joke, but I suppose it was lost on you. Regardless, I wish to see them safely returned to me. You see, they are my… best students. I do not wish for them to be injured too greatly, especially as one is known as the Saviour of Olympus." He paused, letting that sink in. I kept up the façade; I knew who this so-called hero was, Perseus Jackson. Some nobody that had destroyed my home, then went on to stop Atlas from destroying Olympus. Twit. Still, the whole of the world owed him, something I was certain he would rub in my face the first time we would meet.

"Mhm," he said a moment later, "I see. So, you know him?" Again with the mind reading. "Indeed…" He began turning away. "Oh, Praetor? Please try and lighten up a bit." With that, the shimmering mist vanished, leaving no trace that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

It was worse than that, though. Six summers ago, my sister and I, the only two Romans among an island of Greeks, were working for Circe, who promised us endless life, as long as we stayed there. And for a time, we were happy. Of course, Hylla and I oft wondered where the men and boys were, but Circe always managed to ease our fears. Then He came.

Somehow, he and that girl that was with him, managed to kill Circe and return several barbarians to normal. After he and her stole their ship, the barbarians captured us. Hylla and I learned in that instant to fight, courtesy of our mother, Bellona. After a few days of warring, we escaped, only to float aimlessly in the Sea of Monsters. We were found by a group of the Amazons, of whom Hylla is now the Queen, and they brought us here.

I guess you could say that I have more than a little bit of resentment towards Perseus. That git. I felt a splash of something wet and cool on my face and arm. With a start, I looked at my newly redecorated arm.

I swore in Latin, and put my quill, no destroyed and useless, down. I tried to scrub the ink off of my face and arm with a nearby rag, but to no avail. With a grunt, I stood, grabbing my purple tunic. I stepped out onto the Principia exuding confidence and power. Or so I thought.

"Well, well, well. What have we here, Reyna? Is our esteemed Praetor going for the tunic look?" Octavian sneered. The blond might have been short and weak beyond compare, but he made up for it with his treachery and manipulation. I was one of the few that easily saw through the facades, along with Hazel, who first alerted me to the problem.

"Centurion," I said, forcing myself not to groan in frustration. At least it could not get any worse, yeah?

"So, I was thinking," he began, falling into step beside me, "that you and I…"

"No," I said, forestalling him. Flirting was fine, but not to a superior, and not to me, and not from him. I continued walking, refusing to talk to him.

"But," he started again. I held up a hand.

"If you have a real, legitimate complaint, or criticism, constructive or otherwise, then say it now, otherwise, leave me be." I was breathing slightly harder, hopefully not enough to be noticeable.

"Is there a problem here, Centurion? Praetor?" a boy's voice said, slurred somewhat. We turned toward him.

Dakota, a brown haired son of Bacchus, was walking over to us, a canteen of something, likely a watered-down wine or mead, in his hand. His lips were stained red from the vast amounts of wine he was known to consume. No one was sure where he got the wine from, as no one save the Praetors were allowed the alcoholic beverages.

"No, Centurion, thank you. And give me that!" I quickly grabbed the canteen from his hand and cast it onto the ground, spilling the mead all over the cobblestone street. He pouted; for a man of seven-and-ten winters, he truly was childish. Then I realized something that should have occurred to me a while ago: "Where are your Cohorts, both of you?" Dakota looked away, somewhat ashamed and red in the face, though that might have been the alcohol, and Octavian just stood there, emotionless. "Well?" I asked again, getting impatient. I crossed my arms, ignoring the sticky ink, now nearly dry, on my arm.

The unthinkable happened then: Octavian chuckled. I glared at him, which only seemed to make him laugh harder. "Stop," I commanded, arms uncrossing and reaching for my dagger.

"Oh, Reyna. Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look when you're angry?" Octavian said. Dakota was dumbstruck, and fled the scene. I took no heed of this as my dagger was swinging towards Octavian's face. He fell to the ground, hand covering the small nick on his face.

"How dare you!" I hissed, pressing the tip of the dagger against his neck. He gulped, backing up. "Never speak to me again in such a way! If you do…" I let the threat hang. With a nod, he stood, then ran off to his Cohort.

I sheathed my dagger, groaning in frustration. I knew that should not have let him get to me, but I let it anyway. I walked quickly to my villa, where I grabbed a change of robes and left for the Baths. I cursed Octavian in Ancient Greek, a language that Circe had insisted that I learn. The good news was that I could curse at anyone without them being the wiser. Of course, it was worthless beyond that, and so by now most people had guessed that this was its purpose. Once inside, I stripped down and submerged myself in the warm water.

"Having a nice time?" a male voice asked from in front of me. I yelped, a rather feminine squeal that I had not done in many years. I saw no one through the fog that filled the room.

"Who's there?" I called out, trying to cover myself as best I could with no clothes. With no warning, the mist vanished, rolling away like a scroll.

Before me stood a man, a god for sure. His hair glowed like the sun, and his eyes burned with such intensity that I could hardly bear to look at them. He looked to be only a year or two my senior.

"Apollos," I said, bowing my head to the god, before remembering my nakedness. He smirked, and threw a towel to me. By some grace, he turned away while I covered myself. Once sufficiently covered, I asked: "To what do I own this… pleasure?" the last word being said through grated teeth. Of all the times!

"I have need of a quest, my dear Praetor." A quest? For me? He must have seen my confusion, for he continued: "My sister, Diana, has vanished, and not even her Hunters have seen her, nor heard from her, in days. It is… unusual, to say the least."

"Are you no the god of the sun and prophesy? Can you not just ask your Oracle?" He seemed to consider this.

"No, I think not. No, I need someone to go seek her out."

"The Oracle, or Diana?" He smiled, his teeth as bright as the chariot he drove.

"Both, my friend. Do you accept?"

"I… wait, I know nothing of this quest. Where do I start? Where do I go? What about…" He silenced me with a swish of his hand. I felt my mouth move, and knew air was leaving my mouth, but no sound was leaving. I shut my now worthless mouth, glaring at the god of the sun. He smiled in that blinding smile of his, then said, "Have patience, my dear Praetor. All things work together, so they say." With that, he started glowing. I knew enough to look away. When I opened my eyes, the mist had rolled back in, and the towel I had been using vanished. I cursed at Apollos, though he would not appreciate it at all. I jolted, realizing that I still could not speak. I finished in the Baths, then dressed and made my way over to the Coliseum, where I knew the Fifth Cohort would be practicing their sword fighting.

I whistled for Aurum and Argentum, having stopped by my villa to collect a sword, a gladius, and they came running over. I crouched, scratching both Collies behind their ears. Together, we then entered the arena.

Author's Note: Only three things to add here:

**1) Senatus Populusque Romanus -Latin, Senate and People of Rome**

**2) The Romans and Greeks are, as a whole, are totally unaware of each other. Reyna and Hylla, having lived on Circe's Island, are the exceptions. ****Both groups (Romans and Greeks) think that the other was destroyed long ago, and thus they are blissfully unaware that both still exist. Chiron and Lupa, being Immortals, are aware of each other, and remain in contact as best as they came.**

**3) Finally, I don't know why Iris made Chiron's message go astray. It just did. Deal with it.**


	4. On Swordsmanship

On Swordsmanship

Hazel

I feared for my friends; truly, I did. They might have been quite good swordfighters, but Praetor Reyna was too.

"Oh, dear," I murmured, upon seeing the very woman appear. Her long, black hair was plastered against its self and her shoulders, as though she just only just left a bath. Her Collies, Aurum and Argentum, stayed a half and one pace away, as though they knew what troubled her. The tunic she wore was not the same one that she had been wearing to breakfast. Her blade, glinting in her left hand, twitched, betraying her otherwise carefully guarded emotions to those who knew what to look for.

The Praetor's entrance stopped everyone's fighting, making the single last clash of blades that much louder and prevalent. We all looked to our Praetor, awaiting instructions. She nodded at each Centurion, once each for Gwendolyn of Ceres and Dakota of Bacchus. She and I made eye contact, though not for long, and she then wrote on a piece of paper, then she showed it to Gwendolyn, who was the more senior of the two Centurions.

"Attention!" the Centurion called out needlessly. "Our esteemed Praetor has been asked to find Lady Diana, and has need of great warriors to travel about with her." Legionnaires and Probatio alike conversed, each voicing their thoughts or opinions. "Quiet!" she yelled out. "I don't want a brawl about this, so anyone who wants to, they can stand here," and she pointed off to my left, or to her right, and she continued: "and they will fight in a tournament for a chance at going. Questions?" A few hands were raised, and their owner's questions were made known. Really, though, how difficult was this? Our objective is simplicity its self: fight to join a quest. End of story.

"'ey," a voice spoke from behind me, making me jump. Battle reflexes, indeed. I turned to face it, and my beloved was the culprit. Frank Zang, an son of Mars, who hailed from a land beyond this: Germany. Frank claims that his family came from even further lands, far beyond the East, in a country called China.

"Frank," said I, kissing his nose. He chuckled. "Wilt thou be trying for the quest?"

"Aye," he replied in his Germanic accent, nodding, "and you as well?" I nodded, confirming. Clasping his hand in mine, we walked to far side, joining those that stood there already. We then numbered four-and-twentieth half-bloods, who were then split into pairs by the Centurions, and told to fight. I drew my _spathia, _or cavalry sword, and fought. I did well enough, and was left with only Frank and two others.

Praetor Reyna walked about us, examining us with careful eyes. One hand rested at her side, while the other tapped her sword idly against her leg, never actually slicing it. She pointed at the boy beside me, and they fought. Within a matter of moments, he was pinned, and Reyna was shaking her head no. She pointed at Frank next. With a nod of encouragement on my part, he stepped out.

He drew his bow, and knocked an arrow, and thus was ready. Reyna nodded once, then ran at him, swinging her _gladius_ in a downward arc towards him. He rolled to the left, firing an arrow at the same time. It missed, but distracted her enough that he could spring up, nocking a second arrow. He spun on one foot, kicking the other out in a sort of counter-weight. It connected with Reyna's sword, trapping it, while simultaneously throwing his rotation off. He stumbled, recovering quickly, but Reyna caught it. She grinned, wickedly, and slashed at him with her other blade, a small dagger that would reappear in its sheathe, regardless of where the blade was.

His eyes widened, and he ducked, only to fall due to his trapped foot and leg. The arrow flew off the bow, as his hand had slipped, and it nicked Reyna's hair just above her ear, taking a thin line with it. His eyes opened even wider, if that was even possible, and he rolled away, just barely missing her _gladius_, and narrowly missing her left foot. He kicked up, flipping onto his feet. He rose to his feet, now ready to fight Reyna.

But, she was nowhere to be seen. At least, not by him. She was just behind him, having moved around him while he was leaping up. She raised her dagger, now in a backhand position, and readied it to strike. Frank must have noticed my face, for he turned around, raising his bow in the process.

And just in time, too. The blade connected with his bow, which was thankfully made of Imperial Gold, and thus did not break. The two both were dripping in sweat, and panting heavily. Never had I, in the year that I had known either of them, seen them fight with such gusto and speed. The two would easily have had the entire Cohort's attention, even if Reyna was not a Praetor. Frank and Reyna stayed in their positions for a minute. Then another. Soon, Reyna nodded, and backed up. Frank lowered his bow, and fell into a more relaxed stance, though still ready to defend himself if needed. Reyna shook her head, then gestured towards me and the other girl, who was shaking.

"Well done, love," I told him as he came to stand at my side. He grunted, unable to say any real words. He was dripping in sweat, and his shoulders sagged. I chuckled quietly to myself, then turned my attention to Reyna and the girl who was now taking a beating.

Reyna swung her _gladius_ down, putting a rather large amount of force behind the blow. The girl blocked with her own _gladius_, though only just. She had to put a hand on the blade to stabilize the force, which became her undoing. Reyna angled her sword downwards, sliding the two blades against each other, making everyone cringe, and the girl pitched forwards, her balance gone. Reyna spun her sword around and placed the tip of it against the girl's neck. Reyna shook her head again, then sheathed her _gladius_, and helped the girl stand. Then she turned to me.

I stepped out, slowing my breathing. I focused only on what I had been told to watch: her eyes. They never gave any indication as to where she would walk, let alone attack. We circled each other, neither wanting to make the first move. It would have been fool-hardy to attack first, for Reyna had been the one that had taught me, at least initially. Both of us had sparred for the last year infrequently, and I knew she would win. I think both of us did, really.

So focused on her eyes was I, that I barely got my _spathia _drawn and up in time to block her dagger._ Spathia_ have some advantages, but against a dagger, these are mostly worthless. Daggers are faster, lighter, and better for short distances. Cavalry swords are better for distance fighting, or swinging with powerful blows.

Reyna spun away, bits of hair flipping about her head. I raised my _spathia _and swung hard in a diagonal blow that both forced Reyna's _gladius_ and her away. The power behind the swing was such that it caused her to drop her dagger. I allowed myself a small smile. Even Frank had been unable to do that!

Reyna attacked again, switching to using two hands on her sword. We parried, neither able to get the upper hand for more than a moment. However, of to the sides, I felt a sort of twitching, like there was a force of some kind that was drawing me. I pushed hard against Reyna's _gladius_, and chanced a look. Nothing, save the shadows on the wall. Oh, right…

Reyna chopped downwards, and I rolled away to the left. She rapidly swung out towards me, but I was already too far away. She recovered, and walked towards me, a rather wicked snarl on her face. I was genuinely worried for my safety if this did not work. I swung my blade quickly across from left to right, then charged her. She was stunned, not quite sure what my plan was. By the time she had realized I was going to tackle her, it was too late. As I wrapped my arms around her middle, and her _gladius _joined her dagger, we flew back towards the wall and fell.

We hit the ground with a hard "oof!" I was tired from the shadow travel, but now I was the only one with a weapon, as Reyna's were on the other side of the Arena, and thus the Fifth. I placed the tip of my _spathia _against Reyna's neck, and said, softly, "Dead." There was no sound save the heavy breaths from her and me. No one made a move.

"Hazel Levesque, how would you like to join me on a quest?" I stood, sheathing my _spathia_.

"'twould be an honour," I said, saluting. I helped her stand.

"Good. Then we leave tomorrow morning. Pack and be ready to leave after breakfast." I saluted. She turned to face Frank. "I want you as well. Between you and Hazel, I have no doubt that we can find Lady Diana and Apollos' Oracle."

"Apollos has no Oracle," Frank said without thinking. Reyna blushed, like she had said something she was not supposed to.

"Never you mind." With that, she walked toward her fallen weapons, the crowd parting before her like a set of doors, and collected them. "I wish all of you good luck," she said to the Cohort as a whole, and then she was gone.

"Well, now… That was interesting." I elbowed Frank.

"Be nice," I chided. He chuckled.

We spent the next hour training, trying to improve our chances against the First and Third, but we held no hopes. When we finally broke for mid-day meal, we were all tired, sweaty, and gross, with low morale. Nothing seemed to cheer any of us, save Frank and I, though that had more to do with the fact that we were finally going on a quest.

"Hey," Praetor Jason said, sitting down beside me. I think he was trying to look suave, but if so, the pound of butter he had just set his elbow on ruined the effect. Frank seemed torn between telling him off for flirting with me, and laughing at him. Of course, neither would be a good idea, because Jason was, of course, a Praetor and could make Frank's life miserable.

"What dost thou wish, Praetor Grace?" I asked, managing to keep a straight face. I made a point to look anywhere other than his face and arm, focusing instead on my half-finished plate of spaghetti.

"So, I hear your going on a quest with Reyna tomorrow, eh?" That got my attention. I sat up straight, dropping my fork and knife. He laughed, and put his arm on mine. "Calm down, Hazel, isn't it?" I nodded once, stiffly, my entire body tense. I knew Frank would be just as tense. No one touched me, save Frank. Anyone else was liable to draw back a bloody stump.

"Please, sir, release mine arm," I stated tersely. He looked down at it, and quickly drew it back. I relaxed, and felt Frank do so as well, though only slightly. "Thank thee." I turned to Frank. "Relax," I told him, trying to make him not appear quite so threatening. Mars' son he might be, but he still seemed… off, as though he needed to grow another two years right away. He did, albeit reluctantly, and I turned back to Praetor Grace.

"Now, what can I do for thee, my lord?" I asked. I could almost see the wheels in his mind turning, wanting to say something awful. Thankfully, he did not.

"I just wanted to check, being Praetor and all. I care for everyone, regardless of rank and Cohort." I got the feeling he was only talking about the women in the Cohorts, but I restrained myself. "I merely wanted to make sure that you understood what you're getting into, that's all. Really," he added when he saw the disbelieving look in my eyes.

"Right, well, thank thee, but Frank and I be more than ready for whate'er lie ahead."

"Whoa, hold on now. Don't drag me into this," he said, hands raised. I gave him a look that said "deal with it," and he backed down.

"Yeah, but still… Really, I was referring to Praetor Reyna." I raised an eyebrow, disbelieving.

"Oh?" He nodded.

"She's… out there. Somewhat. In a good way, I mean. And she has some of the weirdest habits. And she holds no qualms about playing favorites, either. So, I guess, well, what I'm trying to say is, just, watch your backs, yeah?" He was looking increasingly uncomfortable, and was running his hand through his hair, likely a nervous habit. His eyes kept flicking around the room, not lingering on anything, or anyone. I realized that I was wrong: he truly cared about _everyone_, not just the girls in the Legion.

"Well, thanks, Praetor. Now, if you don't mind, Hazel and I are eating," Frank said, foregoing subtlety, while simultaneously remaining oblivious. I sighed, then covered for him.

"Thank thee, Praetor Jason, for thy warning. I ne'er have found this to be true, but then, thou hast known Praetor Reyna longer than I."

"Yeah…" he trailed off, a look of worry on his face as he left the pavilion.

"What a creep," Frank decided, tucking into his food once more. I sighed; there was no getting through to Frank once his mind was made up.

**Author's Note: Er... hi? *Silence* *Chuckles nervously* So... Sorry about not posting for, oh, two weeks? Three? Ah... my bad. I have no excuse beyond Frozen is awesome. Yeah, I don't know how that happened. Oh, well. I started reading Fanfictions for it, and just could not stop. Oops. Also, as I found that I cannot update both this story and my Eragon story each week, I will be alternating every week from here on out. So, until next time, (hopefully only two weeks) see ya!**

**-Ronald, Son of Neptune, Praetor of the Twelfth Legion of Rome**


	5. On War Games

On War Game Strategy

Frank

So I was stubborn. Big deal. Who cares! Obviously the Praetor was worse. If only Hazel would see it… But, alas, she seemed to care for him, as with any other human. It was odd, really. She was wicked with the blade, but as kind and tender-hearted as a child of Ceres, and as beautiful as a daughter of Venus. Why did she deny it?

I tried to force these thoughts from my mind as Hazel tied on my armor. She was to take lead of the Keep's out-force, a group that had been tasked with striking from behind the Fist's line. I was to take lead of the Garrison's Wall.

Perhaps some explanation. The Fist was the name given to the most powerful, though not always largest, group of attackers. These were the ones that would be the first over the wall, if they were to get to it. Praetor Jason Grace was leading this tonight, to the best of my knowledge, and I wanted to be the first to shoot him out of the sky.

The out-force was the sole offensive group for the defenders. They were considered the most skilled, most stealthy group, formed to strike hard, and strike fast, before falling back to the Keep. This leaves two groups: the Wall, and the Gate. These were those that remained in the Keep, either on the Keep's wall, hence the name, or near the gatehouse on the ground, where they, the Gate, would protect the flag to the best of their abilities.

With this in mind, also know that none of these groups or positions was any more or less honorable than another. Each was simply specialized to suit each one's talents.

"Zang, Levesque," our Praetor ordered. Reyna, who was to lead the Gate, summoned us over. Ignoring the last few straps on my armor, Hazel and I walked over.

"Present," Hazel said, snapping to attention. I did the same, then both of us relaxed. Praetor Reyna nodded once to each of us in turn, then looked back at the table before us. Spread across it were two maps: one each of the Keep and the surrounding environs. While the location of the Keep was well-known, the location of the attacker's camp was unknown, as was the number. More than once, we had made the mistake of the direction and had been utterly decimated.

A total of seven people were in the command building, not counting us. Praetor Reyna was there, of course, as were the Centurions of the Second, Fourth, and Fifth Cohorts. Dakota, son of Bacchus, Gwen, daughter of Ceres, were off the side, trying to remain just out of sight. Lesli and Kria, both legacies of Apollos and centurions of the Fourth, stood to either side of Praetor Reyna, arms crossed and bearing a hard look. James, legacy of Jupiter, stood near the entrance, guarding it from listeners, and Seth, son of Vulcan, had his hands on the table, and was leaning on it, causing it to tilt dangerously far towards him. Both men were centurions of the Second.

Everyone assembled looked tired, and ready to surrender before the battle even had begun. In truth, no one wanted to fight today. The weather had turn humid and hot after the mid-day meal, making armor generally uncomfortable. Being a son of Mars, I did not feel it, but then again, mine had yet to be done up completely.

The Fourth were the leading Cohort, as they had been the most recent winners, however, that had been nearly a month ago. No one truly wanted to go against the combined forces of the First and Third. The last time that had happened, the war games had needed to be suspended for nearly a month while the children of Vulcan built a brand-new Keep.

"Dakota, Lesli, and Seth," the Praetor began, "divide your forces, placing equal numbers here, here, here, and here," she said, pointing to four places around the Keep. Never had we kept even one of these, but they were necessary to slow the attackers. "Gwendolyn, Kria, and James, I defer to your judgment. However, I want at least some here, in wait, just behind the gatehouse. They will not be getting through this time." No one's expression changed. She sighed, and a look of intense weariness flashed ever so briefly across her face.

"This will not be easy. I have asked Frank and Hazel, both of whom have proven themselves to be great fighters and strategists, to come participate in this Council. Zang, you are to take complete command of the Wall. Levesque, you are leading the out-group. As you both are…" She was cut off by the creak of the door opening. James was immediately on the intruder, tackling him, or her, to the ground, and twisting his hands behind his back. The rest of us stood, drawing weapons.

"Name yourself," the grandson of Jupiter growled in the ear of the intruder.

"A… friend… Nico…" he managed to squeak out from beneath Centurion James' weight. Hazel's eyes went wide.

"Centurion! Let him up!" she cried, running over and returning her weapon to its sheathe as she did. Centurion James looked to Praetor Reyna, who nodded, and he released the boy. Everyone got a got look at him.

He was short, perhaps only five feet in height. He had long, rather frighteningly black hair, and eyes the same colour. His face bore many scars, as though he had been through Erebus and back. Based off the aura he seemed to project, he could very well have been. The leather armor he wore was loose, as if he had been in a hurry to put it on. Finally, he had a short sword strapped to his back, the hilt visible over his right shoulder. If the boy had a shield, it could not be seen.

"Nico!" Hazel cried, throwing herself on the boy, pulling him into an unwanted hug. Everyone glanced about at each other.

"Hazel," said I, "who is this man?" releasing the tension on my bow. Hazel turned, about to answer, when Nico spoke first.

"I am Nico, a demigod. For now, be content in that. I shall tell more later. For the moment, you have an army to defend against, yes?" He had a strange accent that I could not quite place; Italian, perhaps?

"Indeed, Nico," Praetor Reyna said, standing before him, with her hand near, but not quite touching, her blade. "What is it you want?"

"I have come to offer my assistance to my… cousin, Hazel, and those she fights for. I have much experience in the art of… swordplay. I would like to make use of these until after the battle, when I may speak to Frank, Hazel, and you, hopefully in private." Praetor Reyna glanced at me, then at Hazel. Nico, I decided, was not a person I wanted as an enemy.

"And who here would vouch for you, should you make a fatal mistake?" Praetor Reyna asked, though everyone already knew who would. Hazel stepped beside her cousin and said "I," placing a hand on his shoulder. Nico flinched, but otherwise he made no other acknowledgement of her hand on him, instead watching Praetor Reyna eyes unflinchingly. Praetor Reyna considered him, then fidgeted, as though his gaze was a terrible thing to have.

"Very well. Come," she said, waving a hand at the table. "If you, in fact, are swordsman as you claim, perhaps you might know something we do not in regards to the First and Third Cohorts." He nodded, then walked to the table.

He took a completely black quill from somewhere within his cloak and began drawing on the larger map of the Field of Mars. Wherever the quill touched the parchment, it left a shimmering blackness, rather than ink. Soon, the map had three camps, one in more detail than the others, as well as several other lines.

"These are trenches or traps," he said, pointing to the seemingly random lines within the forest and Field, separating the camps from the Keep. "Exactly what each one is… Sorry, but I know not which is which." He looked sheepish, and tried to smile, but it just made him look… creepy.

"No, do not apologize," Centurion Seth said, eyes darting all over the map, as though new ideas were forming themselves in his mind. Praetor Reyna's eyes were gleeful, and even I, who cannot read people well, knew that wheels were turning in her mind. She stood straight, garnering attention to herself.

"Nico, I would like you to join the Gate. The divisions of the Legion stand, but now, we can be more careful about where we send our troops. Praetor Reyna then gave out more accurate intructions, pointing the Cohorts to focus on this area or that. I stood off the side, waiting to give my own orders. While I might not be able to superceed a Praetor, or even a Centurion, I still could command those under my command.

"I would like my people to remain on this tower," said I, pointing at the Sentry, the tallest tower on the Keep, then directed further, pointing to half-a-dozen other places around the walls. "Centurion James, would you join me by the gatehouse? I find myself in need of a powerful swordsman, and require him or her to be strike hard, then return quickly?" He nodded. "Good. That is all for me."

Hazel took over, briefly explaining what her group would do. Being such a small, but vital, group that would be pursued constantly, we all knew that any stricter plans would fall through quickly.

"Is that everything?" Praetor Reyna asked us. Agreement rippled through the assembled. "Good. Tonight," she began with extreme confidence, "we take the flag for ourselves. We will win, we will hold the Keep, and we will be the victors!" Shouts of encouragement sprang from each of us as we made our way to the Cohorts, waiting for their instructions.

After we had split apart, I considered the people before me. I chose a handful to lead in place of me should it be necessary during the fight. I gave centurion James command of the hand-to-hand Wall members. When all was said and done, we made our way to the walls and towers, ready for whatever the First and Third could throw at us. Never had we been this wrong before.

There was virtually no sound made as time went on. The Legionnaire to my right, coughed, but I felt no need to reprimand him. Centurion Lesli, however, disagreed. I shook my head as she did just that. A few birds flew into the air, barely visible in the fading light.

"Quiet!" I hissed, drawing my bow. The trees twitched as a large weight moved passed them: the First and Third. "Bows!" I called, knocking an arrow. A quiet call raced down the line away from me on both sides. Everyone crouched, and those with bows knocked arrows. We watched, as if in slow motion, the first parts of the invading force broke the tree line. I stood, drawing the bow and firing. The arrow went sailing in a high arc, slicing through the air with a faint, very high-pitched whistle. It struck someone, causing them to fall, and trip several of those just behind. As planned, dozens and dozens of arrows followed, some striking Legionnaires, most hitting the ground.

A few that hit the ground sparked, and ignited the pitch they landed in. The flames were hot, but rarely caused lasting damage. The arrows were blunted, able to injure, but rarely could kill.

I fired arrow after arrow, watching as the Cohort smashed into their trenches.

"Is this it? Is this all you could conjure, Jason Grace?" Of course, the moment after I said this, a massive sphere of fire came hurtling towards my part of the wall. "Get down!" I screamed, throwing myself to the ground. There was a loud roar as the sphere missed, smashing instead into the buildings within. Those around me stood, all of us cautiously. I knocked by bow, and took careful aim. I sensed, rather than saw, Praetor Jason. I spun, firing as I did so. He flew down towards me, laughing manically. He readied his sword, about to cleave me in half.

I dropped to the wall, bellowing orders to my compatriots to move their rears out of the area. There were no objections. Jason pitched to the side, the arrow I had fired missing him completely. I reached back, only to discover it was down to three arrows. I snarled, then focused my attention on the flying Praetor. I began willing myself into another form, one that could handle this son of Jupiter.

Looking back on it, it was a fool-hardy plan at best. I roared, leaping into the air, and wrapped my paws around the man. Whatwith my massive weight and his shock at my transformation, he was unprepared, and together, we fell to the ground outside the Keep.

With a sickening crunch, we landed, smashing a battering ram to pieces in the process. I groaned, and stood, briefly forgetting that I no longer was bipedal. I fell on my face, sure I was going to be shocked by a certain son of Jupiter. When that did not happen, I looked to see what happened. He lay beneath me, totally unconscious.

A call to arms snapped me out of my thoughts, returning me to the problem at hand. I was outside the Keep, alone, in enemy territory with no way to return. I, thankfully, had not yet been spotted, and no one had attacked me yet, likely thinking I was as unconscious as the Praetor. With another roar, I leapt onto the side of the ram.

"Lion!" someone called out in obvious fear. I snarled again, then charged the one that had cried out. I easily knocked him out, then raced about, biting and clawing at my oppressors. When I misjudged the distance to a sword and felt my right paw get nicked, I realized I was tiring, and quickly. I roared again, causing everyone around me to cringe and stop.

I ran off, throwing my weight to each side and knocking First and Third Legionnaires to the ground. I managed to make my way to the gatehouse, only to see that it was already being besieged. I ducked out of sight, a challenge for a lion, and returned to normal. I stumbled, and was caught under my arms.

"You!" I hissed, before my mouth was covered by a hand.

"Sh! Quiet! Do you want us to be caught?" Nico said, pulling us down to the ground as a few Legionnaires ran by, likely looking for me.

At the gatehouse, a massive ram, bearing something similar to a clenched fist, was smashing into the doors. The thing was easily twenty feet tall, if not more, and twice that in length. The roof over it sloped downwards and was made of interlocking metal plates. As I watched, several plates opened, revealing an archer for just a few moments before it disappeared into the depths of the ram. Surrounding it were dozens of Legionnaires.

"The Fist," I whispered in horror. This was both beautiful and terrible at the same time. I had thought that things were going far too easily.

"How did you get out here?" I asked Nico.

"I was at the gates, fighting as we fell back from the trenches. I tripped, and accidently fell through the wall, appearing back here." I nodded, then turned, a look of confusion crossing my features. "I shadow traveled on accident." My eyes widened. "Yeah I can do that. Look, what do you say to stopping that thing?" I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"Yes. How?"

"I fell through the shadows to that thing. I landed on the ram its self. It isn't held on by much, just a few very thick chains."

"And that is not much?" He smiled, a wicked look in his eyes. The overall feel was almost cruel, or perhaps even demonic.

"No. At least, not for a beast-man," he said, glancing at me.

"You have a plan, yeah?" I said, not sure whether I wanted to know what it was or not.

"Oh, yes. You see, things like chains and ropes, they only can handle so much weight and tension before breaking." I was about to ask what this had to do with anything, and how he knew, but he cut me off. "It is a long story, involving a crane, hellhound, and three raccoons." I was not sure whether to laugh or not, but he seemed to not notice. "I will shadow travel us on top of the ram and you become the heaviest thing you can think of." I considered it. It really was not a bad plan, assuming it worked. I looked forwards.

"Very well. Let us do it." At this moment, the ram hit the doors with a resounding boom. I hoped it was not an omen of things to come.

If you do not like the cold, or darkness, or moving very fast, or hearing strange voices, I suggest you avoid shadow traveling. As it was, I thoroughly enjoyed it.

"Woohoo!" I hollered, briefly, before Nico covered my mouth. He pulled us down and we knelt, trying to hide ourselves. A few forms passed by, but none seemed to notice us.

"Be quiet!" Nico hissed into my ear. I nodded, and he removed his hand. We crept along the walkway, heading towards what we hoped was the front. The ram smacked against the doors again, but this time, being as close as we were to the ram, we felt the whole ram shudder and shake as the fist connected. I faintly heard the splintering of wood.

"The doors are cracking," I whispered to Nico. He nodded, his face all but invisible in the fading light. Darkness had already begun to set in as I had fought Jason, and now it was likely that Apollos Chariot had descended completely, his twin sister's Chariot taking its place.

Lanterns along hanging from the roof bathed the ram in light. For us to land on it unnoticed, they would have to be snuffed out.

"Let me worry about that, you just focus on getting to the front…" he trailed off as the ram its self came into view. It was being drawn up by some unknown force behind us, but whatever it was, it must have been strong. The ram was easily five feet around and twenty feet long, just as I had guessed. It swung forwards, and again it vanished before smashing into the doors again.

"Let's go!" I whispered, and began running, still crouching, towards the front. We reached the end, miraculously unseen, only to have to duck back into the shadows as a familiar form passed by.

"Well? How goes it?" Praetor Jason asked a girl from the Third.

"We're tryin', sir, but this 'ere door 's thick 'nd strong," she replied, her Viking-esk accent quite apparent. I only knew one person with an accent like that: Lea Valdez, daughter of Vulcan, and one of the most powerful demigods here.

"Damn," I whispered.

"What was that?" Praetor Jason said, turning. He looked around, but apparently saw no one. Thankfully. He continued to talk with Lea for another moment, then left. Nico and I ducked lower, then the shadows around us seemed to peel off the floor and walls, and veil us as the Praetor walked passed. We held our breath as he almost stepped on us, but he passed us unaware of just how close we were. We breathed a sigh of relief.

Nico motioned towards Lea, who had turned back to… whatever she was working on. Some kind of consol, or lever system. I nodded, and together we snuck up behind her.

"Yeh certainly took yeh sweet time, Franky, Nicky," she said, not turning to face us. Nico and I glanced at each other, bewildered.

"Surrender, in the name of the Fifth," I said, knocking an arrow, one of only three. Nico kept a hand ready to draw his blade, but otherwise did nothing.

"An' why shou' I do tha'?" she asked, turning towards us. Her face bore a manic grin, and her eyes seemed to burn with fire. In her hands, she held a staff, which was on fire. As we watched, her fire-red hair began burning with fire, and her body became covered with armor, all made out of fire. She spun the staff around, then held it parallel to her arm, with the end reaching passed her shoulder. With her other hand, she waved us forwards. Nico and I exchanged a glance, then we charged.

Nico drew his sword and swung, while I shot an arrow at Lea, knowing she would incinerate it. She did just that, whipping her staff around her and smacking it into Nico's pitch black sword. The staff vanished, seemingly consumed by his sword. Lea's fiery armor vanished as she backed up. Nico advanced, pointing his sword at her.

"Stay there, and say nothing," he commanded. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his sword. I was unsure if I should have him sheathe his weapon, or just let them be. "Go," Nico interrupted. I nodded, then turned back to him.

"Sheathe that… thing," I ordered. He hesitated, then did just that. I nodded, approving, then jumped.

With a soft thud, I landed, somehow not killing myself in the process. I fell to my stomach as the ram lurched backwards, being readied to smash against the doors.

_Heavy, _I thought to myself. _Think heavy_. I considered everything I had seen in my sixteen years: Hannibal the elephant, a hydra, a lion, and much more. I smirked, deciding. I stood, hand holding onto a chain. I concentrated, knowing that I was pushing myself to the limits.

I hissed, and felt my scales crunching against the wooden ram. I could not spit acid like the actual drakon I had mimicked, but I still had all of its weight. I felt the ram creak, and then it lurched. I hissed, and began curling myself around the ram. The ram stopped. Either I had been spotted, or it was about to be released. With my added weight, I knew that if it was released, the ram would finally destroy the doors, and the Keep would be lost.

But not this day. Another lurch, and I dropped, hitting the ground, and bringing the ram with me, tearing the ram apart. With that, I returned to normal, then stood.

"Well, well, well…" a voice said. I looked towards it, and Praetor Jason laughed. "You certainly are an impressive sight." His features became hard. "I think it's time for you to run." I decided not to argue, and ran off.


End file.
